


Dragonfly

by DarkJonerys



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Boatbaby (Game of Thrones), DRW Boatbaby, Daenerys Resurrection, Daenerys Resurrection Week, Daenerys Targaryen Deserves Better, Daenerys Targaryen Is Not a Mad Queen, Daenerys Targaryen Lives, F/M, Happy Ending, Miscarriage, New Valyria, Past Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen, boat baby, boatbaby, boatie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:41:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23545552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkJonerys/pseuds/DarkJonerys
Summary: Every anniversary of Daenerys' resurrection is harder than the last. She should be happy- she has almost everything she ever wanted, including a thriving empire to call home and subjects that love her- yet her regrets leave her wishing she was never brought back at all.This year, on the seventh anniversary of her resurrection, the Lord of Light gives her a priceless gift.Written for #Daenerys Resurrection Week Boatbaby prompt on Tumblr and Ao3
Relationships: Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen (past)
Comments: 83
Kudos: 160





	Dragonfly

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoy my contribution to Daenerys Resurrection Week! (I figured I should probably try to do something, since I came up with the prompts.) 
> 
> Warning: Mentions of Miscarriage, but it has a twist ending kind of.
> 
> Vaguely based on the ending scene of the movie "Dragonfly."
> 
> | Tumblr | @thesilvertargaryens |

Daenerys stood watching the sunset on her balcony, fingers resting lazily on the warm stone. The breeze was a small reprieve from the blistering heat as it billowed her thin silk skirts, but she had long since gotten used to the unpredictable weather. She should be happy, she thinks. Her kingdom is beautiful and complete; New Valyria quite literally rose from the ashes, and it's everything she ever wanted. There were bustling cities filled with happy people and smiling children, who never knew the horrors of poverty or slavery, misfits, and people who were willing to risk everything for a better life. There were many people who were looking for a home and finally found it- people like her. 

The view from the balcony was of rolling meadows, a sea of wildflowers, and smoking mountains, where her new dragons laid by Drogon liked to nest. If she looked further down to the left, she could see the start of Missandei's Garden; it was her personal garden dedicated to sweet Missandei, which could be seen from the balcony in her private bedchambers. A larger community garden was erected in honor of Ser Barristan, Jorah, and Missandei in the middle of the square. Golden statues depicted their likeness in the center where everyone could admire their sacrifice and bravery. If she looked to the right, she could see the Red Pyramid that housed the Red Priestesses in the distance.

She should have felt content with the beauty surrounding her thriving utopia. However, the pink and oranges of the sunset sky made her stomach churn with unpleasant thoughts. She remembered the screams and fires when she burned King's Landing and the bright fires of her resurrection. The crimson sun should have made her sigh in delight, but it only made her think of pain and a river of blood. 

It was the anniversary of her resurrection, and Daenerys wished she would die, so her prolonged torment would finally end. When Jon Snow shoved the dagger under her breast Daenerys finally knew what it felt like to be set on fire. She remembered the horrible darkness of nothing, but worst of all she remembered the pain of being resurrected. Daenerys woke on a stone slab surrounded by Drogon's flames and Red Priestesses. She didn't know whether the pain in her heart was because of the wound under her breast or Jon's betrayal. Soon it didn't matter; that pain was nothing compared to when she felt an unbearable cramping in her womb moments later. She remembered screaming when she felt the blood run down her legs, begging the women to save the baby.

"We tried, your grace," a woman said sympathetically, as she smoothed her hair soothingly. She later learned that it was Kinvara. "I'm sorry."

There was so much blood... They had to restrain her, so she wouldn't kill herself. Oh, how she wanted it all to end, so she could be with her baby, even if there was nothing in the afterlife. She still did...

Tears spilled down her cheeks, and she didn't bother to brush them away. Daenerys didn't need to look down to know Drogon was laying on the ground below her. He was the only reason why she didn't fling herself off the balcony like she so desperately wanted; she couldn't abandon her child, and she knew he would catch her anyway as she had already attempted it once before. She tried not to think about it, but the baby would be approaching his or her seventh Nameday this year.

Perhaps the only solace she had was that Westeros was in chaos. The North was impoverished, and everyone was rebelling against Bran in the South. She was glad that Sansa was too proud and Bran was too indifferent to ask for her help because she was done with Westeros and everyone in it. Kinvara periodically looked into the flames to watch Jon Snow, per her request, and she was pleased to find out that he seemed to be more miserable than she was in the frozen wasteland he was exiled to. Daenerys hoped he would regret killing her until he took his last breath. He could have had everything, and now he had nothing.

"Your grace," Kinvara said, breaking her out of her destructive thoughts. It took all of Daenerys' willpower not to lash out at the woman who helped bring her back to life, as she knew Daenerys didn't like to be disturbed on this day. "It's a beautiful evening, is it not?"

"What do you want, Kinvara?" Daenerys sighed, clearly not in the mood.

"What do you want, your grace?" Kinvara smiled, and Daenerys rolled her eyes at the woman's antics.

"Everything I want cannot be obtained," Daenerys said, "I have impossible dreams." She turned to walk away, but Kinvara caught her arm. The Red Priestess was still smiling with a knowing look in her eyes, and Dany knew that Kinvara would be persistent until she gave the woman her undivided attention. It was infuriating sometimes.

"Perhaps," Kinvara said cryptically. "It was impossible to wake dragons from stone, yet you did. It was impossible to unite the Khalasars and have them cross the oceans for you, but you did it."

"The girl who did all that died long ago in front of her ancestors' throne, stabbed by the person that was supposed to love and protect her," Daenerys whispered. She refused to shed tears over Jon's betrayal any longer. "I don't believe in miracles anymore."

"Seven years ago, a dragon came knocking on my doorstep in Volantis. It's impossible to bring someone back to life, yet the Lord of Light allowed you to rise again. It was impossible to inhabit Valyria after the doom, but you created a thriving empire," Kinvara beamed. She squeezed Daenerys' arm, "You're Daenerys Targaryen and your dreams come true."

Dany sighed and looked up into the bleeding sky. The tears blurred her vision again, and she didn't bother to brush them away. Kinvara had seen her at her lowest point, so it didn't matter. The woman, for whatever reason, still held her in high regard, despite everything she witnessed.

"Come to the Red Pyramid with me, so we can pray to the Lord who gave you life today," Kinvara said soothingly. She tugged on Dany's arm gently, coaxing her away from the balcony's edge. She knew Daenerys didn't pray to any God, but she knew the woman couldn't refuse today, "Perhaps we can look into the flames after, if it would please you."

It didn't please her, but she had no other choice. The ground rumbled as Drogon woke and flew up to greet them. Kinvara smiled pleasantly, and Daenerys sighed. She wondered if somehow Kinvara had Drogon under a spell due to his unwavering eagerness to always take them back to the Red Pyramid. It was almost as if he wanted her to grovel at the Lord of Light's altar in gratitude for the life she didn't want or deserve... Still, she climbed on his back with Kinvara following closely after her. He let out a guttural purr before he took off, and it melted Daenerys' frozen heart just enough to appreciate what she had just a little bit.

Daenerys would begrudgingly admit that she didn't dislike the Red Priests and Priestesses. She was weary of the creepier sort, who dabbled in dark magic, but they usually stayed hidden deep below in the bowels of the Pyramid. Sometimes, she was irritated with the woman who would get on their knees to worship her as if she was a Goddess herself, but for the most part they did have good intentions. Daenerys didn't believe in any Gods, but she did know that the Lord of Light was the most fair out of all of them. No one ever benefitted from the the Old Gods or the New in Westeros, and even Yara's Drowned God didn't seem to do anything for his people.

Kinvara told her that the Red Pyramid would be a home for anyone who wished to dedicate themselves to the Lord's teachings, including orphaned and poor children. Daenerys allowed it as long as they had the choice to leave without retaliation if they decided they wanted to do something different later in life. Yet, when several children waved and bowed, her stomach clenched.

"Your grace," a young girl wearing red robes chirped as she smiled brightly and curtsied. Daenerys smiled back, yet it quite didn't reach her eyes. The girl vaguely resembled Arya Stark, and Daenerys wondered if her baby would have had Jon's raven curls. Her heart ached as she tried to push away such thoughts. 

Kinvara pulled her along several winding hallways after that, where only higher ranking members were allowed to roam freely. Daenerys was grateful that no one bothered them, until she realized where they were going.

"Silver," Kinvara said as they stopped in front of the heavy stone double doors of the Lord's Temple. Daenerys raised an eyebrow in confusion, but Kinvara just patted her arm before opening the heavy stone door.

"I don't want to pray anymore," Daenerys said with a lump in her throat. She had been resurrected in a similar Temple, and she couldn't be there- not today.

"We aren't here to pray, your grace," Kinvara said as the door seemingly opened all the way by itself. There were several Priestesses in the room already, "The Lord of Light wishes to give you a gift."

 _I don't want it,_ Dany almost said, but she bit her tongue at the last second. At first those words reminded her of Jon, but soon, she was overwhelmed by a calming presence as she stepped over the Temple's threshold. Every negative emotion slipped from her mind, and she felt more peaceful than she had in a long time.

Time seemed to stand still as Kinvara linked arms with Daenerys and began to lead her towards the stone altar, "Silver," Kinvara said again, "Silver curls, not raven." Daenerys' lip trembled in realization, and she froze in her tracks. Kinvara took her hands and held her steady. 

"It took some time, but the Lord of Light is generous to his chosen," Kinvara said, cupping Dany's cheek. She gently turned Daenerys around to face the altar and gave her a small push to go the rest of the way. Kinvara's voice lowered cryptically, "We couldn't save her body, but we saved her soul."

A large woven basket sat in the center of the altar, and Dany bit her lip hesitantly. She turned back to look at Kinvara before she was close enough to peer inside, and the Red Priestess nodded encouragingly. Dany edged closer to the altar, and her hand went to her mouth to stifle a sob as she looked down into the basket.

A baby girl peered up at her with alert gray eyes, nestled in a blanket of crimson silk and white lace. A circlet woven into the shape of a dragon framed her silvery wisps of hair, and she had diamond bracelets around her wrists. She smiled up at Daenerys and kicked her legs happily.

"I don't understand," Daenerys hiccupped, smiling down at the baby. She put her finger down in the basket, and the baby gripped it. "Is... Is she-"

"Yes, she is yours, Daenerys," Kinvara smiled before turning serious. "Yours and Jon Snow's."

"How?" Daenerys asked. She noticed the baby had the Stark eyes and porcelain skin complexion, but the rest was all Targaryen.

"The same way as you," Kinvara said as Daenerys gently reached over and picked up the baby. The little girl cooed up at Dany. "It just took a little bit longer."

"Thank you," Dany laughed through her tears. Her baby was perfect. She was all smiles and rosy cheeks; an angel swaddled in white lace and a dragon halo. "Mama's here, Zaldrītsos. I've waited for you for so long, my sweet little dragon. So, so long..."

"The Lord willed it, so it was done. There is no need to thank me," Kinvara said, turning to the other Priestesses in the room. They all bowed their heads in reverance, as she pointed to the statue depicting the Lord of Light, "Let us bless the Princess in the faith of fire. He only requires a name."

Daenerys hesitated for a moment before finally allowing Kinvara to mark her daughter's forehead with anointing oils. Daenerys didn't believe in any Gods, but she didn't want to invoke the Red God's wrath if she didn't baptize the baby in his faith. 

She thought of a name for a few moments before deciding. At first, she wanted something more unique; perhaps a name to commemorate her mother and Lyanna Stark; Lyaella, perhaps. However, she held no love or sympathy for the Stark woman now. Dany did like more traditional Targaryen names, but Rhae names only ended in tragedy, she didn't want to name her baby after a variation of Daenerys, and Alysanne was too demure and Northern sounding.

"Visenya," she said thinking of how her baby was a fighter. She needed a strong name to be a strong ruler of New Valyria. It may have been a stupid notion, but she also believed that somehow Rhaegar had a hand in bringing her daughter back. Perhaps, she was the Visenya he desperately wanted someone to have.

Kinvara smiled before chanting, "Lord of Light, look down upon her."

"Lord of Light, defend her," the other Priestesses' chanted in response. "Lord of Light, shine your face upon her."

"Lord of Light, show your Promised Princess: Visenya of House Targaryen, the first of her name, Princess of New Valyria the way. For the night is dark and full of terrors," Kinvara said, gently pouring water over the baby's head from the Lord's sacred spring.

Visenya cried, and Dany rocked her soothingly before kissing her cheek. It didn't take long for the baby to calm down or for Daenerys to be mesmerized by her daughter's storm cloud eyes. Daenerys was happy- happier than she had ever been in her entire life- and the Priestesses gave her some time to revel in her own little world.

She giggled when Visenya had managed to wriggle one of her legs out of the lace blanket, and she carefully tried to place it back despite the blanket being thin. Visenya kicked again, and Dany noticed there was a small birthmark on her ankle shaped like a dragon.

"Do you want to look into the flames, your grace?" Kinvara said interrupting her reverie.

For years, Daenerys looked in the flames to find any sort of happiness that came from seeing Westeros in shambles and Jon Snow more miserable than she was. Now, she was only thinking about how quickly one of her rooms could be renovated into a nursery and how her daughter needed proper clothes and toys. She thought about how happy Drogon would be when she took her out of the Temple to meet him, and she wondered if Greyworm would finally smile again once he saw her.

Daenerys looked at her baby, and then back to Kinvara. She stroked her daughter's ankle where the birthmark was, "No, thank you. I have everything I could ever want right here." 

For as tempting as getting one more glimpse of Westeros was, providing a happy life for her baby was more important.


End file.
